Stand Aside
by Oneturtledove
Summary: A trip to New Orleans for our favorite FBI agents, turns out exactly as one would expect. Crack-fic
A/N: This story disregards the revival.
It was written by me, pipermaruduchovny, and teliko.x3. It is crack fic. We were absolutely sober during the creation of this. Enjoy.

* * *

Scully wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder and grabbed a Tupperware bowl out of the cupboard. Mulder had moped all through dinner, barely touching the turkey and mashed potatoes that he had originally requested. Irritated though she was at the man, she could understand his angst.

This morning he had found a gray hair.

And not just any gray hair.

This one, which he had affectionately referred to as Benedict Arnold, had remained gray even through a session with a package of "Just For Men." It was the beginning of the end, he was afraid, and Benedict Arnold was the first in a series of hairs that would join the coloring resistance.

But no matter how much she sympathized with her other half, Dana Scully was not the most patient person in the world, and could no longer listen to his soft moans of despair from the other room.

"He's driving me crazy, Monica. It's one gray hair. It's not like his libido is shot. I mean honestly."

"Hey, you seize that libido when you can. Believe me, the older they get the less energy they have for the extracurriculars, if you know what I mean."

"I always know what you mean, unfortunately."

"Is he stressed out?"

"Yeah, but don't give me the blue pill speech again."

Monica was quiet for a moment, clearly floating through the wine haze to arrive at her point.

"It wouldn't be a good idea for him to take a blue pill in conjunction with what I'm about to suggest. As a medical doctor I think you would agree with me."

"Would I?"

"Listen, John and I are leaving the kids with some friends and going down to New Orleans in a couple weeks. You two should join us. You can both use a vacation and maybe it will relieve some of Mulder's stress. And yours too, by proxy."

"Isn't New Orleans run over with drunken college kids and forty-year-olds trying to reclaim their glory days?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"If I get enough alcohol in me, then no. When did you say it was again?"

Monica relayed the dates and Scully glanced through her planner. It seemed a good time to go, and it would be nice to give Mulder something to look forward to.

"I'll book tickets. Where are we staying?"

"I'll call the hotel and upgrade to a suite."

"Please tell me a suite has two bedrooms. I don't want to accidentally stumble upon you and John half an hour after he takes a blue pill."

"Girl, he don't need no pill."

"Thank you for that information. My life is changed."

"You're welcome. I should go see if he-"

"I don't want to know!"

"Okay. Go cheer up your man and I'll… you know, some joke about the word up."

"You're twelve years old, Monica."

"And you're laughing."

"See you in New Orleans."

* * *

The terminal was teeming with people as they deplaned. Mulder's hand found Scully's as they weaved their way through the crowded airport and made their way to baggage claim to meet their friends who had landed two hours before them. Dana Katherine Scully felt giddy, like a child on the first day of school. It had been far too long since the four of them had been in the same place and it felt good to finally be reunited, and to be on vacation together only made the feeling better. She pulled at her partner's hand as she found a small gap between the sea of people, and pushed her way through. They made their way down the ramp and into the main terminal where people were finally spread out enough to have a little bit of breathing room. Mulder visibly relaxed at her side and she felt more than heard him sigh as he let go of her hand to drape his arm around her shoulder. Her eyes scanned the crowd and she smiled when she heard their names being called. Monica and John Doggett sat on a bench next to the baggage carousel. The raven haired woman jumped up from her seat, nearly allowing her husband to topple over in her wake as she scrambled across the space between them to wrap the smaller redhead in a hug. Scully smiled as her friend physically rocked her with the force of their embrace.

"Hey stranger it's good to see you."

"You too," Monica told her as she tightened the hug for a second more before letting go with a smile. She turned to the taller man and embraced him with equal fervor. "Hey Mulder."

"Monica," he greeted her with a smile as he returned the hug before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "This is your stomping ground, right?"

"It was for awhile," she explained. "I know enough that I can point you to the best alcohol and the scariest graveyard tours."

"Woman after my own heart," he countered and noted the look from Scully that informed him he would not be spending this vacation in the graveyards of New Orleans if he would like to keep sharing a bed with her. "We'll talk later."

Scully rolled her eyes and turned to smile at the other man.

"John," she greeted him as she stood on her tiptoes to get her arms around his neck for a quick hug. "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Dana," he told her with a genuine smile and his soft southern accent wrapping around her. He turned to Mulder and extended his hand. "Mulder, it's good to see you."

Mulder took his hand and shook it as they clapped each other on the back with their free hands.

"It's good to see you, John."

Scully turned to her friend and raised an eyebrow.

"Monica, did you ever think that we would see the day when these two wouldn't just get along but be happy to see each other?"

"This is what hell freezing over feels like," Monica deadpanned. "What's your luggage look like?"

"We shared a suitcase because Mulder is useless at packing so it's this big god awful red thing that I borrowed from Bill and Tara," Scully explained. "There's a hot pink ribbon on it. So if it looks like it'd make you go blind then it's probably ours."

"Got it."

Scully turned her attention back to the two men who seemed to be conspiratorially whispering a few feet away. She cocked an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Did you two manage to get a rental car squared away?"

"Done and did, Dana," John promised. "Keys are in my pocket so as soon as we get your luggage we can get to the hotel."

"Good," she said. "Cause I don't know about you all but I want to 'drop our shit and get'. That flight was rough and I want a drink."

They watched as Monica disappeared into the throngs of people as she retrieved their baggage from the carousel, emerging a few moments later victorious. Wordlessly, the group left the airport for the likes of their hotel room not far from the famous Bourbon Street. After a change of clothes and some fresh makeup for the women, they were already to embark on their evening out on the town.

* * *

The warning Monica had given them prior to leaving the hotel room and walking down Canal had been undersold, in Scully's opinion. The stench coming from Bourbon Street was ten times worse than the Flukeman's sewer… and Monica had commented that this was 'a good day' for famous New Orleans attraction.

Scully lost count of the number of homeless people she sees sprawled out on the sidewalk and consciously moves closer to Mulder as they got closer to the biggest block party in the entire world.

"Alright. Where to first?" Doggett spoke up, taking a few steps ahead of the group and pointing out a few close bars. "Hustler's? Lipsticks?"

"I take him down here once and suddenly he's a strip club expert," Reyes muttered to Scully.

"I've been down here twice. And I prefer 'Adult Entertainment Connoisseur'."

Scully couldn't help but think she should request a copy of the security tape that watches the front door to forever document the look on her face as she stepped inside of the first bar John recommended.

It was a dark, loud club full of twenty-somethings drunkenly hanging on one another. There was a makeshift stage that looked like it could collapse to the ground if one more hundred and ten pound, stiletto clad bar goer stepped up.

The 'What in the hell are we doing in here' look didn't go unnoticed by Monica, who only laughed and looped her arm through Scully's, and proceeded to drag her past the stage to the bar.

"We'll only stay for a few drinks…. tops," Monica promised.

The young bartender spotted her immediately and leaned in to hear her order over the loud 'twerk' music that was slowly starting to give Scully a migraine. She turned around to examine the younger girls once more and an overwhelming sense of jealously coursed through her when she caught Mulder and John drooling from afar.

Scully turned around to find Monica holding up four shot glasses of a clear liquor, and accepted one mindlessly while she pointed behind her to one of the drunken college girls.

"I have underwear older than that one," Scully yelled over the loud music before knocking the shot back and slamming the empty glass onto the bar top.

"Dana," Monica exclaimed, her eyes growing wide at her friend's exclamation. "Just… try to have an open mind tonight, okay?"

Mulder and John were slow to meet them by the bar, but when they did, Monica presented their shots with a sly smile. "Whoa, whoa. Where's yours?" Mulder asked the redhead standing next to him.

"I took it already," she 'matter of factly' told him.

"Dana needed that shot like those girls need tetanus vaccines."

"Well look," John spoke up after shooting the tequila shot. "We've all had our shots. We came-"

Mulder laughed.

"-We saw. We can leave."

"But we just got here," Monica pouted. "This used to be my favorite bar when I was their age."

She pointed to the drunk adolescents and sighed. The defeated look on her friend's face was enough for Scully to speak up.

"Look… Monica and I will stay here for a few more drinks. You two… try not to get into trouble."

She waved them off and turned back to the bartender to order two more shots of tequila.

* * *

The summer heat had the two beer bottles sweating in Monica's hands as she navigated through the crowd of dancers to find Scully swaying back and forth at their table.

"Two Blue Moons, as requested."

Her hand extended to pass off one of the bottles to Scully, but an intoxicated dancer accidentally bumped into Monica's arms and the bottle slipped through her fingers, crashing onto the floor in a muffled shatter.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, nearly toppling over as she bent to pick up the bigger pieces of glass.

The glass was everywhere and before she knew it, she felt a sharp piece slice through the palm of her hand. She stood suddenly, presenting her hand to Scully with eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Dana!"

"Oh, Monica… shit!"

The bouncer advanced towards them with a dustpan and broom in his hand, but Scully stepped in front of Monica and held out her hand to stop the gym rat in his tracks.

"Stand aside! I'm a medical doctor!"

"Ma'am, I need to sweep up the glass."

"This is a crime scene. The FBI has jurisdiction. Take it up with my supervisor," she slurred and faced Monica, who had got her hand out wide in front of her face, blood dripping down her wrist.

"There's a bathroom-"

"I NEED HOT WATER AND TOWELS. LOTS OF THEM," Scully demanded over the loud rap music."Whale songs. Let's sing some whale songs."

Scully, in an attempt to calm down her friend, started whining and squealing over the loud music much like Monica had so many years ago in preparation of William's birth. Monica reached up with her non-cut hand and placed it softly on Scully's shoulder.

"That is so cool. I wish I could speak whale, too."

Scully was grabbing at the only dry napkins left on their table as she wrapped up Monica's hand and applied pressure. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Mon'ca," Scully slurred. "Tis' but a flesh wound. I'm a med'cal doctor, I do this ALL the time. Like… all the time."

The vibrating in her pocket was enough to pull her away from Monica's battle wound.

"Talk to me," she shouted into the phone.

"Uh… yes. Dana Scully? I have one… Fox Mulder and John Doggett here at the local station. We're gonna need you to come down as soon as possible."

The cab didn't take long to reach the bar they were at, but it took more time than Scully thought to help a disoriented Monica through the crowd of drunks. But when they made it out onto the sidewalk, Monica opened the cab door and crawled into the backseat slowly. Scully dove in after her and rested her pounding head in Monica's lap as the wounded FBI agent leaned over her drunk friend's body to pull the door closed.

"Where to?" the cab driver called out to the two of them.

"Parish jail," Monica spit out.

* * *

"Yeah, I'm here to pick up Mox Fulder. Fox Mulder."

"And your name?"

"I'm a medical doctor!"

The officer glanced over the top of his glasses at her. Should he arrest her for public intoxication, or hope that the quartet would stumble their way back to a hotel and sleep until their senior discount kicked in?

"Your name, ma'am."

"Special Agent Dana Scully. SPECIAL. This is Whale Song, but I call her Monica. I mean… wait…"

"Monica Reyes. I believe my husband John Doggett is here as well. Listen is he wearing clothes?"

"Ladies if you'll have a seat, I'll get the paperwork started for bail. And a bit of advice, I'd try to sober up a bit or you'll find yourselves in holding as well."

"I am not drink. Drunk."

"Dana," Monica laughed. "You tried to eat those rock thingies outside and you got mad when they weren't giant bacon bits."

"That is not drink. Drunk. That is hungry."

"Let's get you and us some coffee."

"Me and us?"

"Me and I. Us. Coffee."

They stumbled gracefully over to the coffee machine and each poured a cup. A few sips of the hot liquid didn't sober them, but it did serve to put something in their systems other than alcohol, and maybe the world stopped spinning so fast.

"So what a'zactly did my old ball an' chain do?" Scully asked as she leaned on the counter. "I remember this one time he got drunk and thought he went back to 1942 or some such thing. Oh that was the time I kissed Skinner. So what was it this time?"

The officer raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at the intake report.

"It seems that Mr. Mulder was… disruptive."

"That is pretty much his entire character. Disruptive. One time his water was drugged and I had to shoot him. I mean, it was okay to shoot him. I'm an FBI agent. And Mul'er, he was okay. I'm a medical doctor."

"Yes… uh."

"Disruptive how?"

"He uh… well ma'am it seems that your… Mr. Mulder, was involved in an incident with a dancer."

"A stripper! Monica they really went to see a stripper! I knew it! What did Mul'er do?"

"He attempted to pay for the services with a credit card-"

"So?"

"Which he slid down her backside."

"Oh. Wow. Now that's creative," Monica noted with a serious nod. "There's an idea in there somewhere."

"We could make money off that."

"You can do a lot of things down a stripper's backside, Dana. You should know this."

"Yes. I am a medical doctor."

"You are. And a really pretty one at that."

"Aw, thanks Whale Song!"

"So what did John do?"

"Mr. Doggett, in his attempt to assist Mr. Mulder from the bar, knocked over three tables, two dancers, and ripped down a sign out front. He claims he was not drunk and he passed all the field sobriety tests with flying colors until we had him take a breathalyzer. I'm surprised he's still walking."

"That's my man!"

The officer completed the paperwork and collected the bail money (half of which the girls retrieved from their bras) and went to process Mulder and Doggett from holding.

"This is going to be a great story to tell," Scully started. "I can't believe this. I mean, I've picked Mulder up from the drunk tank before, but this is way better. I can hold this over his head for- MONICA HOW'S YOUR HAND?"

"It seems to still be attached to my arm."

"Can you call a cab with it so we can go back to the hotel? I want food."

"Yes, we need all the things from room service."

"All. The. Things."

"Wait. So how are we going to get to room service?"

"Call a cab. Right?"

"Yes. A cab. Call?"

"Yes! Pick up that phone and make it happen!"

Monica placed the call and watched a tipsy Scully out of the corner of her eye. She herself was starting to sober up slightly, due to their predicament and her normal rate of imbibement. Unfortunately, that meant that the reunion of Mulder and Scully was not fuzzy at all.

"SCULLAAAAY!" Mulder hollered as he tripped around the corner. He caught himself just before hitting the floor, and managed to gallop over to Scully, who met him halfway across the room, arms open wide.

"Poopyhead! You're alive!"

"I am always alive," Mulder noted. "John saved my life. I am his servant."

"If that's the case," John started, surveying his companions in various states of drunkenness. "Let's get ourselves back to the hotel and rehydrate."

"And then round two!" Scully decided.

"And round three!" Monica added, partially to annoy John.

"Take one down, pass it around!" Mulder supplied, clapping John on the back. "This is the best night ever."

"Best night ever!"

* * *

Twenty-four hours later, Walter Skinner received the call he had been dreading for the better part of his career. He sighed, hung up the phone, checked his bank account, and booked a plane ticket to New Orleans. He had some bail to pay.


End file.
